On the most simplistic level, writer/director Kenneth Lonergan’s Margaret is like Randy Newman’s great, disturbing song “I Want You To Hurt Like I Do” writ large. The movie’s main character, a selectively precocious teen named Lisa who lives at a certain level of New York City privilege that nonetheless seems perpetually poised on the brink of toppling, doggedly pursues an idea of justice that’s pretty transparently a hardly un-malicious attempt at expiating, or maybe virally spreading, her own guilt. Her selfish pursuit of a trifle, it seems to her, precipitated a grisly, fatal bus accident in her Upper West Side neighborhood. Having lied in her initial statement to cops, her nagging conscience, not to mention her roiling, emerging sense of self, compels her to try to put things right, as she sees it, and Lisa pursues this aim with what might be called a vengeance, throwing several lives besides her own into more than everyday tumult.
One might call this a loose, baggy monster of a film; the cut currently showing in theaters is a hair under two-and-a-half hours long, so clearly the simplistic reading just won’t do. And in fact Margaret is “about” a number of other things, including that peculiar formulation called “post‑9/11 New York,” the porous border between emotions as we feel them and emotions as we portray them (much is made of the fact that Lisa’s beleaguered single mom is a reasonably succesful actress with both a new play and a new beau on her plate), the way daily lives can still proceed in a “normal” fashion despite the extent of moral/behavioral complication/trauma we (perhaps) arbitrarily bring to bear on them, and more. It’s about fantasy projections of heroism, what it means to be “good” rather than good. (What it’s not about, I don’t think, is “the trolley problem,” which some beardo tried to expain to some other guy with a waxed moustache as they walked out of the afternoon Manhattan screening I attended yesterday. Oy.) It is also rather relentlessly high-minded; as Lisa goes to a pretty advanced private school and her mom works in “the arts,” writer/director Kenneth Lonergan takes the opportunities this affords him to weave multiple, meaningful cultural allusions into the narrative; a pertinent Gloucester-observation from King Lear is discussed at length, and the film’s title doesn’t refer to an actual character in the film but to the person addressed in Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem “Spring and Fall,” a not-too-distant relation to Donne’s “Meditation 17;” and opera figures prominently in a couple of scenes, to the point that one might become confused as to whether the film is a Flaubertian treatment of Jamesean themes after having believed it was vice-versa.
Does it all work? Not entirely. There’s a bit of awkwardness to the articulation of the prevailing consciousness, or self-consciousness, at times. I really didn’t need the bus driver to be quite so lumpen, or quite so much from a Bay Ridge that is a much less compelling product of Lonergan’s imagination than his Upper West Side is. Poor Jean Reno is almost laughably miscast.The swing-for-the-fences approach, when it becomes obvious, sometimes leads to near-disaster. Indeed, at the film’s finale, Lonergan seems to be lurching toward a cornball universalist Sweeping Gesture, and he fortunately regrounds things back in the specific for the final shots. But on the whole, and given a few hours to let it sink in, I’m thoroughly impressed. As many of you migh tbe aware, Margaret has a tangled and unpleasant post-production history. It was shot over five years ago and spent a considerable amount of time in editing rooms, and in civil courts, before receiving its current limited release. Several of its lead actors, most prominently Matt Damon and the very great Anna Paquin, look almost comically younger than they do today; indeed, on the evil Twitter machine I wisecracked that Fox Searchlight might want to market the film as being about a time-travel device that puts movie stars in touch with their younger, fresher selves. (Also, hey, look, there’s young[er] Olivia Thirlby!) Armed with such information, critics will of course run with it, and Margaret has taken some brickbats for its ostensible lack of focus and “punishing” running time. I dunno; even though there were times I thought it wasn’t quite making it, I was sufficiently drawn into its world that in retrospect I could have more than stood it being quite a bit longer. In terms of ambition, and, yes, actual scope—the last thing this is is a 90-minute movie stretched out to some arbitrary epic—this is a huge leap for Lonergan, a playwright whose film debut was the similarly thoughtful but somewhat “smaller” 2000 You Can Count On Me. It’s kind of comparable to the jump writer/director Jeff Nichols made from Shotgun Stories to Take Shelter, I suppose, but what came to my mind was the notion that Eric Rohmer had followed My Night At Maud’s with something of mid-period Rivette duration, or maybe his own gloss on something along the lines of Eustache’s The Mother and the Whore. That sounds a little out there, I know, but it might make sense to you if you see the film, which, as Joe Pesci said in Raging Bull, you definitely should do. And yes, I very much hope that Lonergan gets to make more films. Long ones, too.
Who should one feel sympathy for at this point, the Simpsons voice cast forced to accept ‘only’ in the region of $250,000 per episode, or a sophomore director unable or unwilling to expeditiously honour his contractual running-time obligations even with Scorsese and Schoonmaker’s assistance?
No offense (or do I mean “offence?”), OC, but as you might have inferred from above, the question doesn’t really interest me. Although I AM mildly curious about how you came to be privy to Lonergan’s contract.
Have I seen Kenneth Lonergan’s contract? A better question might be, did Kenneth Lonergan see Kenneth Lonergan’s contract?
“The playwright/filmmaker had locked himself in an editing suite and refused to budge from his three-hour cut. He had that privilege, I was told, with final cut assured — but only up to 120 minutes.
[…]
Even more intriguing are the other enemies Lonergan has made throughout the process, including his late co-producer Sydney Pollack (who Camelot says had “become disgusted by, and frustrated with, Lonergan’s unprofessional and irrational behavior”) and the three-time Oscar-winner Schoonmaker herself, whose suggestions to the filmmaker supposedly went largely ignored.”
http://www.movieline.com/2009/04/kenneth-lonergans-margaret-lost-in-legal-quagmire.php
I’m in no position to judge the quality or height of the leap from ‘Shotgun Stories’ to ‘Take Shelter’, not having seen either film, but the thought of the writer of ‘Analyze This’ and ‘The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle’ suddenly fancying himself as the next Erich von Stroheim is a terrifying enough hurdle for me.
To paraphrase one half of Double Ed in “Blue Velvet,” OC, “If you opt not to see ‘Margaret’ is does me no harm.”
Seems like Oliver C is overly concerned with Kenneth Lonergan’s obligation to transfer some money to a certain medical practitioner.
Going in thinking about Lonergan’s contractual obligations is exactly the wrong way to see this or any movie.
Glad to see Glenn standing up for the merits of a movie that deserves better than it’s gotten both from critics and audiences. It worked better for me in its more intimate moments than when it was reaching for the big picture, but I’m also not sure it’s safe to pass judgment after just one viewing.
We bitch and we bitch and we bitch about Hollywood taking the safe route with remakes and sequels, yet when someone swings for the fences, there’s always plenty of people who want to swat them back down. Margaret maybe isn’t a home run, but it isn’t a strikeout either.
I wonder if we’ll see a longer version on DVD. It wasn’t wearing out its welcome for me even at 2 1/2 hours. It felt chaotic at times, but it didn’t feel flabby. If anything it could’ve been more fleshed out.
I’m with you on this, Glenn (except the Bay Ridge part; I guess I forgave that more than you did on the grounds that 95th street stop, at any rate, looks so much different today than it did five years ago, and I also didn’t find Ruffalo and Rosemary DeWitt as “lumpen” as you did); despite the fact it is a failure on some level (and doesn’t solve all the problems of the rough cut I saw five years ago), it is a powerful experience, and I credit Paquin and Lonergan for not taking the easy way out on her character. Admittedly, I do have a weakness for hyper-articulate characters who nonetheless can’t completely express themselves, and Lonergan doesn’t do as good a job with that as he did in YOU CAN COUNT ON ME, but he’s playing on a bigger canvas here, and much riskier one as well. I also hope he makes more films.
I didn’t mind the running time itself, but the way that so many of the individual scenes seemed to go on and on, making the same point over and over again (it’s probably not a fair comparison, but I was reminded in this regard of the Martin Brest/Bo Goldman SCENT OF A WOMAN).
Paquin was spectacular, though. Has any of her other post-Piano work been as strong?
“…the thought of the writer of ‘Analyze This’ and ‘The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle’ suddenly fancying himself as the next Erich von Stroheim is a terrifying enough hurdle for me.”
Yeah, let’s beat the guy up for his bill-paying journeyman work and ignore his playwriting career and YOU CAN COUNT ON ME. It’s well known that all great filmmakers sprang fully formed from the head of Zeus.
“Matter of fact, nobody knew all the details. But it should have been perfect. I mean he had Tony from Italy and Pollack the Polack watching his ass. And he had fifteen million dollars, final cut rights and every star in his pocket. But in the end, he fucked it all up. It should have been so sweet, too. But it turned out to be the last time that somphomores out to shoot the Great Post‑9/11 American Novel were ever given anything that fuckin’ valuable again.”
– as Joe Pesci said in ‘Casino’ (sort of)
I’m glad to see this appreciated, I thought it was captivating as well. And it was a pretty swift 2 1/2 hours. I think a big part of the reason why it worked for me was the way it keeps punctuating its emotional grandiosity with scenes of ground-level humor, like the classroom scene in which Matthew Broderick insists on his interpretation of Shakespeare, or Jean Reno rather clumsily explaining ‘Jewish reactions’. It’s a movie that knows that the most passionate emotions are also often the most ridiculous.
I’d say that Oliver C here is doing some high-toned trolling, but to what end?
The fact that the writer-director (who played Margaret’s dad) is married to the actress who played Margaret’s mother kept distracting me at odd moments in the film. The film had enough dead moments that I had time to imagine their breakfast conversations during the shoot (“Honey, are we filming my topless scene today or my masturbation scene?”)
Terrific as much of the film was, especially the performances, I wish I could call it “a swift 2 1/2 hours.” Because when the film wasn’t bogged down in ten-minute argument scenes that could have taken seven-or-eight minutes, we’d get a few minutes of someone walking down the street for a few minutes in slow motion.
But of course I’m one who first saw the butchered version of Once Upon a Time in America when it was released and didn’t think the longer version could be any good, only to be blown away by the directors’ cut (in my defense, it was my first Leone, and I was only 22).
As my buddy Akiva said, I just hope Lonnergan didn’t shoot some abortion scene that’s now cut. The abruptness of this film (whatever other versions may or may not or may yet exist) is one of its strengths. I liked it a lot. The Eustache comparison isn’t so out there. Another name to drop on it, maybe: E. Yang.
It seemed pretty clear from her demeanor that she had never had an abortion and was just seeking attention in a fresh manner.
Obviously she’s looking for attention. Looking past that, it seems feasible that she coulda gotten pregnant by the Culkin kid and then flipped that bird on its head with this little 180 – notice how the camera lurches as her story does, after every layer of bullshit it moves further around and away from her, until she’s faces with it/us and she “quits” her little narrative. But enough with the plausibles. That’ll doom anything.
My comment was more about my interest in seeing what was left out, what other textures were brought to bear. You can imagine Broderick got to say something else to Lisa and her stoned friend another time. You can imagine more of the play, more of the little brother. At worst? It’s a rich, rich text that complemented my weekend and some of my ideas about all the stuff the movie’s about (including the movies).
If memory serves, in the rough cut I saw five years ago, there was another scene between Paquin and Damon where it is clear she was making it up about the abortion, but the specifics elude me, other than Damon getting pissed at her.
For the record, the copy of the script I have (dated July 2003) doesn’t feature an “abortion scene” per se, but does include a scene in which Lisa’s mom takes her to the clinic to get one. So Lonergan didn’t initially intend for her to be inventing it. That doesn’t preclude him changing his mind later, of course.
Anyone in the Los Angeles area know if this is still playing anywhere? It lasted exactly a week at the Westside Landmark.
It’s supposedly at the Culver Plaza Theater. http://www.moviefone.com/theater/culver-plaza-theater/376/showtimes
Thanks for that, Craig. I’ll try to see it before it disappears.
What jbryant said. Also Craig Kennedy. Even if it took Lonergan fifteen years to make this picture AND it still stunk (I haven’t seen it, so can’t judge, but I loved YOU CAN COUNT ON ME) don’t we at least have the satisfaction of knowing that the film is the work of an artist with a vision? I’m not saying that er, guidelines and deadlines aren’t inherently a good thing (I often appreciate that Billy Wilder came from a journalism background, for example) but when somebody takes this long on a MOVIE, doesn’t it say that he or she is taking the art form seriously and shouldn’t we? It certainly doesn’t seem easy.
I’m late to the party with this, but I was able to catch “Margaret” before it left my city, and I’m very glad I did. It’s a fascinating film. Strangely, a movie I thought about in relation to it is the similarly underrated Erick Zonca’s “Julia”. I mean, they’re totally different, but both films share a sprawling, manic energy that’s punctuated by an abrupt, elliptical style (like Cassavetes by way of Pialat). They also feature two of the strongest, most uncompromising female characters/performances in recent cinema. Like Tilda Swinton’s hot-mess Julia, Anna Paquin’s Lisa is a thorny, prickly character who is so maddening and who makes so many ill-judged decisions, it becomes sort of a trial to keep caring. And, remarkably, you do. Or, at least I did.
A lot of people have already talked about the film’s accurate portrait of adolescence, post-traumatic stress, etc. But one element that struck me as kind of significant is the relationship Lisa has with men, particularly her father (remember the way he hesitates a bit before he says he loves her). It’s interesting how Lisa lashes out at almost every older male she comes across – including teachers and police officers – and yet remains diffident whenever she talks to her father, who really kind of deserves it. Lonergan is also great at including very authentic, real-life touches amidst the film’s larger operatic aims. Some of my favorite moments include the scene in which Lisa tries to make a grand exit at Matt Damon’s apartment, but gets stopped by the locks. Or when she scrambles to find a pen that works to take down Emily’s contact information. “Margaret” definitely isn’t perfect, but like a lot of great works of art, its flaws seem as oddly essential as its strengths.
I don’t know enough about the film’s troubled production history to make any big judgements, but Fox Searchlight is kind of on my shit list now. It really sucks that they’re going to pour all their money and resources into aggressive campaigns for mediocre films like “Shame” and “The Descendants”, while they have a near-masterpiece on their hands, which they’ve dumped like yesterday’s garbage. They also seemed to drop the ball on “The Tree of Life”, a film I think could have done better, but that’s another story.
Scott: I’ve got Zonca’s JULIA in my Netflix Instant queue and hope to get to it soon. His THE DREAMLIFE OF ANGELS is one of my favorite films of the last 20 years, so I’m hopeful, especially after seeing your post. MARGARET is not likely to come to my neck of the woods, alas.